Sour
by thinkyoubettergo
Summary: Modern Day: Anna Smith finds herself in a predicament when her boyfriend, Graeme Bates, introduces her to his brother, John, who comes from London to Yorkshire for the funeral of Violet Crawley. It's not an easy ride for any but true colours begin to shine through. Characters, except Graeme and Figg, of course, belong to Lord Fellowes. WARNING: Strong Language
1. Chapter 1

'Anna! Anna! Come on, this is getting ridiculous now!,' she had heard Graeme exclaim from the bottom of the staircase twice in the space of only a few minutes. She didn't know what the problem was anyway, as far as Anna was concerned they were early, _too _early for her liking. Still, Anna rounded the bed and made towards the door, not without a backward glance first to make doubly sure everything was in order. Naturally, it was. The closet was closed, the bed made and the window was slightly ajar to air the room out. Content, Anna made for the stairs.

'I don't know _why _you're so eager to get there! No doubt it'll be an announcement about a new couch they have just ordered or that they plan on spending the winter in Mauritius, and how it will be _our _duty to make sure they're not robbed!,' Anna had bellowed whilst descending the wooden staircase, the faded surface thundering under her feet. _They, _who Anna was referring to, were of course the Crawleys; Robert and Cora, to be exact. They had been friends of Anna's and Graeme's for what felt like eternity. Although older than both by quite some years, around fifteen, both couples got on awfully well. Weekends were often spent in each other's company, exchanging weekly news and gossip over a football game (particularly for the men) or a glass of wine.

'That's not the point! I said we'd be there at, what, 12.30pm, and look!,' he had forced his watch ridden wrist under Anna's nose to emphasise his point, '12.14pm! And it takes ten minutes to get there in the first place!'

Anna could only roll her eyes at her boyfriend's unnecessary panic. 'Correct me if I'm wrong, but if your calculations are indeed right, we will have six minutes to spare!,' Anna had retorted, jumping over Figg as she did so. Figg being the Siberian Forest cat she had taken in a year ago, rescuing him from one unusually heavy Yorkshire downpour the previous spring.

'Oh, just come on!' cried Graeme, distress pouring out of every orifice. Heaving out a lengthy sigh, Anna relented and grabbed her shoes which stood guard by the door. By this point Graeme was practically bouncing with anxiety.

'For God's sake, wait in the car!,' Anna had said as if talking to a child. Graeme didn't need telling twice. Pulling open the door, he didn't look back. _Bloody hell, he's a handful, _thought Anna. Her thoughts were interrupted with Figg's sudden desire to be shown affection. Relenting, Anna bent down and scratched him behind the ear. She made to get up and as she did so the door flew open, sending a swift chill in to the house, followed by a glum Graeme. He spoke barely above a whisper, 'Forgot the keys.'

* * *

Upon arriving, just as Anna expected, early, Robert had not greeted them as he usually did, open arms and all. _How odd, _Anna thought. The lack of gesture had not been lost on Graeme either, 'Do you think everything's alright?,' he had asked. Anna didn't know how to answer, in truth. She gave what she only thought she could as a way of reply, 'There's only one way to find out.'

It felt odd knocking on the door of their house to Anna, very odd, in fact. Graeme and Anna were not made to wait long as Cora greeted them at the door, a shadow seemingly cast over her usually glossy features. 'Hey, guys,' was all she managed to muster in that characteristically American drawl of hers. _Odder and odder, _Anna thought. Cora was not one to shy away from extravagant greetings, which usually resulted in a wet smear of balm over both Anna's and Graeme's cheeks, not to mention having to regulate their breathing again once she had released them from an air tight hug.

Entering the house seemed a different experience that day. It was rarely _this _quiet. No background noise at all, it would seem. Usually the dulcet tones of _Rascal Flatts _or _Keith Urban _could be heard through the speakers, but not today. Something was definitely amiss.

All three of them entered the kitchen, with barely a word exchanged between. Standing at the sink, Robert peered in to the garden beyond, seemingly fascinated on a single piece of laundry blowing in the wind. He had yet to turn round and greet them. 'Robert,' Cora's soft tone splintered the silence, reaching towards her husband and placing a small, jewelled hand on his lower back as she spoke. Cora continued, 'Graeme and Anna are here now.' Her words and her touch had barely moved him at all. Anna and Graeme could only stand and watch, captivated by the silent man before them. Finally, Robert seemed to break free from his daze and turned to greet them. The usually buoyant and charismatic Robert Crawley now stood a shadow of his former self. His face was unshaven, his hair unkempt and his eyes uncomfortably blood shot. 'Hello,' he croaked as if he hadn't been hydrated for days by the sound of his voice. Graeme was the first to speak. 'Robert, mate, what's going on? Is everything alright?,' he questioned, not really sure whether he actually wanted the answer or not. A simple gesture of his head in the form of a 'no' was all he got. Anna looked from him to Robert, then to Cora and back again to Robert. Anna stepped forward, guiding Robert's hand in to her own, doing so almost in a trance. She squeezed gently, hoping that he would enlighten her and Graeme, not that they would be prepared for it. 'My…m-other has died,' was all he could say before his throat began constricting with grief and the weight of his words.

* * *

Sitting silently in the Crawley's living room, cup of tea in hand, Anna looked on sympathetically as Robert spoke of his mother's recent demise. 'You know she hadn't been well for a while but still, I wasn't ready.'

'I don't think anyone could ever be truly ready, Rob,' Anna had said in what she hoped was her softest tone. 'The death of a parent is…' She couldn't quite find the right words but the sentiment was there, earning a bobbing of the head by Robert.

'If you need anything, mate, you know where we are, alright?' Graeme had informed his friend.

'I'm grateful. We both are,' Robert had indicated to his wife as he said so. Nodding enthusiastically in confirmation, Graeme stood.

'We will let you be. You ready, Anna?' he questioned his girlfriend, perched on what appeared to be a new couch.

'Yes,' Anna replied.

Reaching the door, Anna gave Robert what she thought was the biggest hug she could offer. 'We'll be in touch,' she had stated before crossing the threshold. Graeme also gave Robert an almighty hug and kissed Cora on the cheek, following Anna's example.

'Oh, Rob, I'll get in touch with John and let him know so he can come up for the funeral in a couple of days. I know he will want to see you both.'

'Of course, John, yes. Yes, I'd like to see him, it's been too long'.

'London's caught up to him, the daft man. Never has time for anyone.' Graeme had virtually spat out his last words, making Anna glance at him in confusion.

Bidding farewell, they stepped in to the car and drove off.

'Ha! 'Bout time! The old bat didn't half bloody linger!' Graeme had exclaimed cheerfully when he came to a junction.

Anna was astonished and did nothing to hide it. 'Graeme!'

He didn't seem to register her reaction and continued, 'Lucky bastard! He'll be in for one hell of an inheritance! She was rolling in it! Well, not anymore…' he laughed at his own 'humour'.

Anna was appalled. How could he react in such a way when his friend of many years was sat in his house grieving for his dear mother? She dreaded to think how he had reacted when his own mother had passed away five years ago.

'Oh God, and I'll have to phone up bloody John! Ugh, I thought I had got rid of him for good!'

Not holding back on her irritation and upset, Anna spat, 'Then why did you mention him to Robert, if you are so against seeing him?!'

'Well, when dearest brother John says he _'can't quite get the time off work'_, Rob will see who the real John Bates is! And who will be there to be his friend, me, of course. Me. I will be the one to comfort the blubbering bastard and who will get to go to the conferences in Greece and Italy, sipping the finest wines and eating the best food? Exactly, ha, I'm already looking forward to it.'

Anna could not comprehend what had just happened. She was astonished that the man she loved could be so cruel about his best friend. Looking at him, she was seeing him in a completely different light, or shadow, depending on your view of the world. There was a calculating look playing in his eyes, spinning the cogs in his head at all of the great things he could reap at his friend's expense. Only moments ago, Graeme was offering Robert a sympathetic smile and an unyielding reassurance of friendship. The Graeme she had fallen in love with was not the man behind the wheel of the car. He was quite the opposite.

* * *

'John? John? It's Graeme. Look, old Violet Crawley has snuffed it and her funeral is on Thursday. Rob wants you to be there so are you going come up here or what?' Graeme practically yelled down the phone to his older brother. 'What?! You will? Are you sure 'cause I bet you're extremely busy down in the Big Smoke and... Wha- yeah, yeah, no, I understand. Right, so you'll be here on the Wednesday? Fine, OK, see you then.' Graeme had only just put down the receiver before he bellowed, 'Shit!'

Anna looked on in disgust. _Good, I'm glad he's coming, _she thought smugly. 'So, he _is _coming then?' Anna enquired with a sickeningly sweet voice. Graeme only glared and clamped his eyes shut in anger.

'Looks that bloody way, doesn't it?' he spat. Anna only smiled and anticipated the arrival of this _John Bates. _


	2. Chapter 2

Wednesday came about sooner than Anna had anticipated. The days seemed to just combine and become one at the moment, it reminded her of her days at university. Being the day before the funeral, she couldn't help but um and ah about whether to go and visit Robert and Cora. She decided not to. _Give them space, for now, _Anna had thought whilst lazily stroking Figg, who lay seductively across her lap. What could not be ignored was the arrival of John, something which Graeme gave pungent opinion on as much as his tongue would let him.

'_He could have stayed at an Inn…he's just imposing…bastard!' _Anna lightly shook her head at recalling many of Graeme's outbursts, which were definitely becoming more frequent as John's arrival loomed. He was still a child, there was no doubt. He hadn't changed much from the day she had met him, all that time ago, in one of Leeds University's corridors. Graeme was handsome, with a devilishly chiselled face. Prominent cheek bones and bow lips, Graeme often turned heads. _Heads of both sexes, _Anna laughed to herself. Of course, much like his features, Graeme's personality was quite imposing. Cocky and arrogant, he carried a very much bad boy attitude on his shoulders. How could she not be attracted to that? Just as she reminisced, Graeme came bustling in to the living room, clearly agitated from his day in work. Graeme was a businessman, working his way up the firm he slaved for until he held the business world by the throat. Well, he thought he did. In reality, his position was not as important as he boasted. Anna had been back from her work in the local book shop for two hours before Graeme had arrived. Always keen to be surrounded by the written word, Anna had dived in to the position head first. Although equipped with a History degree, Anna had taken the job in the hope of being able to work on her book. That was her greatest desire, to write. Graeme never did care for it, though.

Chucking his body on to the worn couch next to Anna, he was rewarded a hiss from Figg because of the unwelcome disruption. Graeme began, 'I have all of tomorrow off, now. Managed to twist a few arms, didn't I?' he finished with a smug grin.

'I have time for the funeral but I'll have to head back, I'm afraid. You will just have to keep John entertained.'

'Ah, yes. I cannot wait.'

'What time are you picking him up from the station?' Anna enquired, ignoring Graeme's sarcasm.

'Um, I think around eight o'clock. He had to get the bloody latest train, didn't he?' Graeme replied venomously.

'I would hardly say it's the _latest _train, Graeme,' Anna drawled, defending this perfect stranger.

'Well, anyway.'

Silence fell then. Anna didn't mind. His whining began to grate, though Graeme didn't seem to care. The more things he could say against his brother, the better he felt.

Anna couldn't help herself. 'Why don't you like him?'

'Hm, what?' Graeme replied uninterestedly, having turned on the television, blankly staring at some reality programme, complete with tanned men and women.

'John. Why don't you like him?' she enquired the second time.

'Oh, well, he's just one of those people. You know what I mean?'

'No, not exactly.'

'For Christ's sake, why does it matter?' Graeme shot back in annoyance. It was definitely the sort of overreaction Anna was used to.

'Fine, sorry for asking,' Anna replied, feeling slightly scolded.

He didn't reply. Moving Figg off her lap, Anna went to make tea for her and Graeme. _Maybe I'll add a couple of sugars, to sweeten him up a bit, _Anna thought to herself, _he doesn't half need it. _Returning with the scolding mugs, Graeme was on the phone looking agitated. 'Yeah, fine, sure. See you in a bit'.

'Everything OK?' Anna asked, placing the mugs on coasters.

'Yeah. John's going to be late so he will just get a taxi from the station, we won't need to pick him up.'

Nodding her understanding, Anna sat and began to read her worn copy of _Any Human Heart _for the fourth time.

'God, Anna, I've never known anyone read so much, and of the same book? You're just like John,' Graeme said, squinting at the sudden sweetness of the tea on his tongue.

'It's a wonderful story,' was all Anna felt was necessary as way of reply. It was true, Boyd's _Any Human Heart_ was full of every emotion Anna could think of. Logan's relationship with Freya ignited such feeling inside of her, Anna wanted to cry at every page.

'Bit soppy, if you ask me.'

'I didn't ask you.'

Raising his head in confusion, Graeme looked to Anna, who hadn't even acknowledged him. He shook of her comment, downed his tea, which he instantly regretted. The steam was still filtering out of his mouth when he spoke, 'Right, I'm going for a shower. We'll just order something in tonight. I can't be arsed cooking,' and with that Graeme made for the stairs.

'It wouldn't be you doing the cooking though, would it?' Anna said under her breath, dismissing her boyfriend and losing herself in her book once again.

Anna was just about awake when the doorbell rang. Startled, she placed the still open book from her lap on to the side table. Graeme had long gone to bed, which Anna had eagerly protested against, deeming it rude.

'It's just John,' was what he had argued, as if it posed as a valid excuse. Glancing in the mirror to check she looked presentable and without Chinese food in between her teeth, she moved towards the door. Eyeing the shadow on the other side of the glass, Anna noticed how large the figure was. _He's much bigger than Graeme, _Anna calculated, though she didn't know why she felt the need to do so. Opening the door, she was faced with the back of John Bates. Swivelling on his feet to the sound of the door opening, John was greeted with whom he presumed was Anna Smith. _She's beautiful, _he thought instantly. Awkwardly smiling at each other, Anna was the first to speak, 'John?'

'The very same. You're Anna, I presume?'

'You've presumed right. Come on in.'

'Thank you,' John smiled, passing Anna hurriedly, grazing her arm as he did so.

Locking the door, Anna made her way to the living room, where John stood, travel bag in hand, taking in the place. He smiled again when she approached. An instinct, it seemed. 'It's nice to finally meet you. It seems odd we've never met before. If only it was for a happier circumstance,' Anna had said as way of conversing with the unknown figure in her living room.

'I quite agree,' John replied, albeit awkwardly. Glancing around, John's eyes fell on Anna's battered copy of _Any Human Heart. '_I take it it's you who is reading this?'

'How did you know?' Anna replied with a lazy smile and slight giggle.

'Graeme was never a reader. I didn't know he _could_ read for a while,' John had added as way of joke. 'Are you enjoying it?' he enquired.

Shaking her head enthusiastically, Anna beamed, 'Oh, yes. It's one of my favourites. I'm not ashamed to say that this is about the fourth time I've began to read it,' she laughed nervously at the end.

'You shouldn't be ashamed. I'm always rereading. I always pick up things I missed the last time. Do you find that?'

'I do, yes,' Anna laughed again. 'Oh, how rude of me, would you like a drink or something to eat? Or both?'

'That's very kind, but I think I will just head to bed, I don't want to be a nuisance,' John answered sincerely.

'Nonsense!' Anna almost yelled. 'You're not being a nuisance! What can I get for you? Tea, coffee, whiskey?'

'Tea is fine, thank you.'

'No problem,' Anna replied, moving to the kitchen. John could hear Anna clattering with tea cups and spoons. He took to gazing around the room once again. _You've not done too bad here, Gray. _John had to confess, albeit painfully, that his brother was indeed doing alright. He had a nice home, a lovely woman by his side and a decent position in Leeds. He could have done a lot worse.

Anna returned a moment later with a tea tray, which John hastily moved towards to ease the burden. 'Oh, thank you,' Anna said, chancing a glance at him. Smiling, he took it from her. She had been good enough to put a range of foods on there, too. Cake, crisps and a sandwich. John was spoilt for choice.

'I'm sorry that Graeme isn't down here to see you. He's had quite a day,' Anna said as way of an apology.

'Please, don't apologise. I understand. And thank you very much, for all of this,' John nodded to his feast, 'you really didn't have to go to so much trouble, especially so late.'

'Honestly, it's no trouble at all.'

John smiled gratefully at Anna's kindness. He had no idea how such a kind soul was involved with his brother. They fell in to a comfortable silence as John ate what Anna had prepared. She fiddled with Figg as he did so. John could see, just by the way Anna was with the chubby feline, how much of a lovely person she was. Anna had a gentle face, with light features, quite the opposite of him, though he wasn't sure why he was comparing a lady to himself. John had finished eating and stifled a yawn as he went to drink his tea; Anna merely giggled.

'I'm not surprised you're tired, John.'

'Yes, it's been a bit mad, but I can't complain really.'

Nodding in understanding, Anna took the tray away and made to get up, John joining her as she did so. 'Here, I'll take that.'

'No, honestly, it's fi-,' Anna attempted to deflect John's offer before being interrupted.

'I insist,' John said, already taking the now empty tray from her hands.

Anna turned off the lamps and saw Figg in to his bed. John returned, looking more tired than he had before.

'We best head off,' Anna suggested, trying her hardest not to yawn herself.

'I won't disagree with you there,' he laughed. Taking his bag from the floor, they both made towards the stairs. They had not got to know each other at all really, but already felt at ease in each other's company. _A good start, _John thought, though he didn't look forward to the next day. Violet Crawley, in fact all of the Crawleys, had been incredibly kind to John. Throughout the struggle of his divorce six years ago, along with the death of John's beloved mother, Dorothy, they had all been a pillar of strength. Graeme wasn't as helpful. They had never got on particularly well, no doubt because of their difference in paternity. John was Dorothy's first son with her first husband, David Bates, who had died suddenly when John was only seven. His mother had fallen in love again, quite some time after, when John was thirteen, and gave birth to Graeme a year later. She had never married James Willow and for that, John was glad. He had left abruptly after finding out about the pregnancy. John laughed to himself when he thought of his mother. 'No son of mine will be a Willow!' she had once proclaimed, which John had found terribly amusing. And so Graeme was a Bates. John often thought that Gray's bitterness was because of his lack of a father and so took it out on him, though how it was John's fault, he didn't know. Still, such was life.

John was pulled out of his reverie by Anna's voice, 'You alright there? You look far away,'

'It's because I was,' he replied cheekily. Anna smiled and made up the stairs. John followed her every step.

Anna showed John his room before making to leave him for the night. 'Well, here you are. There are clean towels in the draw and an extra pillow, too, in case you wanted it.'

'Thank you very much, Anna. I really do appreciate this.'

'Oh, not at all. We're family, remember?' Anna said with that characteristically Yorkshire lilt of hers which John found enchanting.

'I won't forget it again.' Before he knew what he was doing, John had bent to meet Anna's cheek with his lips. He didn't linger though he felt he had. Smiling shyly, Anna said, 'Goodnight, John. See you in the morning.' With a nod of the head, Anna left the room, closing the door behind her. Once in the hall, Anna subconsciously put her fingertips to her cheek, caressing the spot where his lips had met her skin. Shaking herself off, she walked across to hers and Graeme's bedroom. Squeezing through the door, Anna made as little noise as she could, readying herself for bed. She had heard John move about towards the bathroom to wash up for the night. Pulling herself from her clothes and in to a nightdress, Anna climbed in to her bed, careful to leave Graeme at peace. _One night of not cleaning my teeth won't see them falling out, _she thought, as she didn't want to risk bumping awkwardly in to John. She spent a long time that night staring at Graeme, mentally taking note of all of the differences between him and John. She barely saw anything the same. Finally settling, Anna found herself dreaming of Logan and Freya's story; Logan now taking on a new image, that of a dark and brooding man in his forties.


	3. Chapter 3

The morning was grey. _How appropriate for a funeral, _John thought in a sober mood as he pulled himself from slumber. It was still quite early, only six o'clock. The house was incredibly still, not even the birds outside were making themselves known yet. Making up his bed when he yanked his body from it, John took to silently strolling around, not quite knowing how to approach the strange position he was in. It was strange knowing that Violet Crawley no longer walked the earth, her wit always following closely behind. It was true, she had indeed been ill, but she was a force to be reckoned with. _No doubt death avoided her for a while, _John joked to himself, not really knowing how else to go about it. Still, there was no hiding from what today would bring. John was determined to be there for his dear friend and his family. Hell, he'd comfort Graeme if he bloody had to.

* * *

Anna woke to the sound of Graeme wandering around the room, not even attempting to silence his steps, as he searched for a matching pair of socks. 'I've never known anything like it!' he exclaimed, despite the early hour. 'Odd socks everywhere!' he continued, oblivious to how ridiculous he sounded to every ear in the room, even Figg's, who had squeezed in during the night. _Only Graeme, _Anna thought, now fully awake though she kept her eyes firmly closed. 'Anna? Anna! Don't you agree?'

'Of course, how awful it is,' Anna answered in a tiresome drawl, though her tone fell on deaf ears; Graeme's that is, not Figg's.

'Did you settle John in alright last night, babe?' Graeme enquired, forearm well and truly wedged in the draw. At the sound of John's name, Anna instantly became attentive, though she couldn't comprehend why.

'Yeah, I think so. We had a chat then came up. He got in fairly late.'

'That's nic- Oh, found one!' Graeme exclaimed far too loudly than could be deemed necessary when he found a white and black stripped knee length sock. Pulling from her position in bed, Anna went to make a start on the day. Grabbing her dressing gown from the back of door, Anna took to the stairs.

* * *

John had settled at the kitchen table, cup of coffee in hand, glancing at yesterday's paper none too interestedly. His mind was still well and truly focussed on what the day would bring, what with finally saying farewell to Violet, and seeing Rob again after so long. With his attention elsewhere, John failed to notice Anna trod in grudgingly, as he had his back turned to the door. It was only Figg's leap to the table that alerted him. 'Oh!' John said in tired surprise, as he stroked the feline behind the ear.

'Oh, hello, John,' a voice came, which John was convinced for a split second had come from Figg.

'What the fu- God, Anna, it's you,' John declared, embarrassed by his genuine concern about a talking pet.

'That's a good thing, I hope?' Anna said, setting the kettle on to boil for the second time this morning.

'I don't know, you know. I could have been the one to discover a talking animal, but you've put _that _to bed!' John attempted jovially, earning him a shy laugh from Anna, and an extremely disapproving glare from Figg.

'I've ruined your life then.' Anna shot back in quite the same manner.

'No, I'll leave that task to myself.'

Anna didn't know quite how to respond, the light air having quickly departed. John noticed so moved on. 'The bed was very comfortable. I don't know how to thank you for letting me stay here.'

'Don't be daft, you're family. You're welcome any time!' Anna smiled, showing her pearly whites.

'Thank yo-'

'Anna! Oi! Where's that stripped shirt, yeah? I can't fin- Oh, alright, John, mate.'

_Graeme_.

Standing, John greeted his brother with a handshake, which was loosely received.

'How are you, Graeme? You look well.'

'That's what money does for you, I reckon,' Graeme added soberly, pouting subconsciously as he said so. Nodding, John reclaimed his seat and took a sip of his, now cold, coffee.

'Another, John?' Anna added, noting his lip curl and knotted brow as he took a swig.

'Please, Anna. Thank you.' Smiling, Anna took his cup.

'So,' Graeme began, 'How's life with you, brother? London as good as it seems?'

'Aye, I'm quite happy down there. Not very green though, which is a shame.'

'It's only grass, mate,' Graeme added disapprovingly. 'Anna, have you seen that stripped shirt, then? Can't find it to save my life. Be a doll?'

With a huff, Anna moved from the sink and went upstairs, parting with an excuse me.

'She's fucking fit, isn't she, Johnny?'

Shocked at his brother's brashness, John took a moment to compose an answer. 'She a lovely lady, Gray.'

'You got anyone then, pal? Finally got shot of that piece of work, Vera, yeah?'

'Yes, we're no longer married. We parted better than I thought we would, so I can't complain.'

Graeme was barely listening, only concentrating on the rough skin of his palm. Mm was all John got as way of reply.

'I reckon Robbo will get himself a decent bit of wonga now, aye, John?'

'Possibly, yeah. Though he'd rather have his mother around,' John added, clearly picking up on his younger brother's interest on Robert's current situation.

'Lucky sod,' Graeme mumbled, grasping the paper John was looking over and tossing it in to the bin. 'It's old, mate,' he added as way of explanation.

'Here it is,' a sweet voice came from behind them both. 'You didn't look very hard, did you?'

'Oh, you angel! Where would I be without you?' Graeme exclaimed, pulling Anna in for a hug. John had to look away, for a reason beyond him. 'I'll go and get ready then.'

Graeme made his way out, leaving just Anna and John, and of course, Figg.

'Alone at last,' John said after a moment. She smiled, and sat across from John at the table, lazily stroking Figg. 'You never told me what you did, Anna.'

'Oh, no I guess I didn't. Well, at the moment, I'm working at a little bookshop about a fifteen minute walk away. Been there since I finished university. I read History, by the way,' Anna had noted John's confused expression so provided some relief. 'But, in truth, what I really want to do is write.' At this John's eyebrows shot up, clearly impressed at this confession. _Beauty and brains, _he thought. 'But I've never really pursued it.'

'Why ever not? You should take the chance.'

'Hm, maybe one day. I've never actually had someone encourage me,' Anna said, laughing nervously.

'Well that's a shame,' John added genuinely, quite bewildered at how no one had encouraged Anna and her dream. 'I'm actually in publishing, up in London, so if you ever have anything, no matter what, don't hesitate,' John smiled a wide one, the largest smile Anna had seen on his face so far.

'Really? That's very kind, I'll consider it,'

'Consider what, doll?' Graeme interjected, fiddling with the cuffs on his wrists as he entered the kitchen.

'John was just telling me he is in publishing,'

'And no doubt telling you to get in to it? God, Anna, it would have happened by now. There's no point,'

John was bewildered at how harsh Graeme's words were. This was definitely the Graeme Bates John knew. A bitter soul, intent on discouraging others to make himself seem, and feel, better. Anna seemed to shrink at his words; Graeme was oblivious to his venom.

'Well, it's true, isn't it, love? Don't kid yourself, Anna,'

'Who said Anna is kidding herself?' John shot back, openly irritated at how his brother was being with Anna. It was clear that she was embarrassed and John hated it. He barely knew the woman, but at that moment, he couldn't care less. 'I don't know _why _you're being so discouraging, Gray. I think Anna should go for it, if that's what she wants.'

'I didn't ask you though, did I? Fucks sake, man, you don't even know her!' Graeme exclaimed, clearly irritated also. _I doubt he's used to being challenged, _John thought. Anna sat there, head bowed slightly, silently praying for this situation to end. Now.

'No, I don't know Anna yet, you're right about that. But about her not bothering, you're beyond wrong,' John glared, glancing at Anna as he said her name. 'God, this is you all over, Graeme.'

'Oh, fu-'

'Please!' Anna interjected for the first time. 'Can you just both stop? This is ridiculous!' Releasing a breath, Anna heaved herself from her chair and made to go upstairs. 'I'm going to get ready, we'll be going soon.' Her voiced was exhausted. _She's used to this crap, _John thought. With Anna out of earshot, John spoke again.

'You're a nasty thing, aren't you?'

'Don't ever, _ever, _get involved with me and her again, do you hear? You've been here five minutes and you're already acting the shining knight, aren't you? Just back off, John, I mean it.'

'You can't take it, can you? Someone standing up to you for once. You have a lovely woman on your arm and yet you belittle her. You're something else, Gray.'

'Like I said, back off. Oh, after this fucking funeral, you can fuck off 'n' all,' Graeme glared, clenching his fists as he did so.

Unbeknown to the Bates brothers, Anna had heard everything perched on the top step. Sitting with flamed cheeks and tears in her eyes, she couldn't help but agree with John. Graeme did belittle her. She was a trophy to him, barely anything more. Figg trotted up to her lap and nuzzled his head to her stomach. Hugging him tightly for a moment, Anna set off upstairs to continue with the day, hoping it'd get better. _Yeah, right, _she thought.


End file.
